


On the Subject of Names

by Noodlesyo



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Deceit is sad because roman was MEAN to him, Gen, Janus is a LOVELY name, but idk i just felt like i wanted to write janus's view on names and stuff, dw yall i still love roman, it seems kinda odd that both virgil and janus were really protective of their names, it's more like 'lying in bed at three am contemplating the meaning of the universe' angst, it's not like ANGST angst, maybe its a dark side thing and remus just doesn't care enough for it to matter?, ngl im pretty happy with it, this is unbeta'd and i wrote it in like half an hour so, you were warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noodlesyo/pseuds/Noodlesyo
Summary: Janus, Deceit, and the everpresent significance of names
Comments: 40
Kudos: 213





	On the Subject of Names

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic ever! I hope you guys like it! I did write this in, like half an hour, but maybe my ramblings will strike you. If you see a typo or something, please let me know in the comments!

Janus let himself float a little bit. In the endless void in between his room and Thomas’s living room, he put the entire world on pause for just a few moments after he sunk out.

There were a million ways that he could have predicted today going, and this was somehow both all of them and none of them.

Convincing Thomas to take care of himself--check. Janus always knew that he would get there eventually, so that part was to be expected. Getting through Patton’s thick skull--check. He had been a bit skeptical that it would ever happen, but he was glad that it did.

But all the rest? He hadn’t expected for Thomas to  _ ever _ accept Janus as a true side, much less so  _ soon _ . And his name… well. He’d planned to keep that a secret for at least a  _ little  _ bit longer.

He opened his eyes to the endless inky darkness of the in-between and focused, pulling his corporeal form toward the pulsing comfort that was his room. A blink, a flash, and a rush of air, and Janus appeared in front of the door to his room. The crude drawings that Remus had drawn of Janus’s two-faced namesake were all over the door, interspaced with various doodles of the four-turned-three of their little family, green and purple and yellow and orange all stuck in place with everything from Janus’s own neat, decorative tape to Remus’s used gum. 

Janus pushed open the door to his room, kicking it shut behind him as he entered. The room always brought him a bit of comfort--like it was his own bubble of armor. It was so achingly familiar, every corner of it. He remembered back when they were all younger, when they were kinder and simpler and far, far more innocent; when Virgil and Creativity used to jump on the bed and scribble on the walls with crayons, back in the days before Creativity split.

Janus’s smile faded at the thought. Creativity. Roman.

_ Roman. _

\----------

Being who he was, Janus became frustrated with the other sides nearly constantly. Yet, He could never quite remember being this  _ offended _ by one of them. 

Janus took off his hat and threw it like a frisbee, landing it perfectly on the hat stand after years of practice. He shed his cloak and grabbed an old, slightly moth-eaten sweater from the floor, slipping it over his head as he turned and fell back onto his bed, staring up at the elaborate canopy above him, embroidered with golden serpents and blacked-out eyes. He closed his eyes.

Roman had more than offended him. Janus was well and truly hurt, which was a sensation that he hadn’t felt in a while. Days and years and decades of being the most mistrustful, conniving, sneaky bitch of a side had led to Deceit being so desensitized to the hatred that Roman and Patton had so often directed at him. Deceit hadn’t been affected by anyone’s bullshit for years. 

Deceit was not Janus.

Janus’s name was a very,  _ very _ precious thing. He didn’t give it out lightly, because telling someone his name was essentially just baring his fucking soul. A name was so many things in one that the “light sides”, or whatever they called themselves, didn’t even understand. Here they were, giving out their names willy-nilly as if they didn’t even  _ matter _ . 

Janus’s name was, all in one, a show of vulnerability and a declaration of character. 

The sides weren’t people. They weren’t humans, they weren’t beings, they were stereotypes with a job.  _ Deceit _ was a role being fulfilled. He was the pinnacle of self-preservation, of sophistication, of pulling every possible string to keep Thomas safe. Deceit was a serpent come to lead Thomas to sin if only it meant keeping him safe from the world, from other people, from the disgusting web of standards and lies and societal fabrications of shame and laws and faux pas. Deceit had a duty, and he would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to carry that duty through.

Janus’s favorite food was Belgian waffles, topped with raspberries and blueberries (but no strawberries) and just the right amount of syrup. He had three whole shelves of philosophy books, and another shelf dedicated to a very specific genre of high-fantasy political intrigue novels. He had a basket full of yarn and knitting needles and more scarves than he knew what to do with. He had _his_ specific chair in the “dark side” living room: the well-worn dark green corduroy armchair that was right next to the fireplace. He had seventeen different shades of black and gold nail polish, he had five identical bowler hats, and he had one specific sweater that he wore whenever he didn’t have to go to Thomas’s living room. He had toe-socks that were made of real snakeskin that Remus had gotten him three years ago that Janus refused to wear.

_ Janus _ was not an original name. It had once belonged to a Roman god ( _ Roman _ ,  _ ha _ ). Janus, often depicted having two faces, god of doorways, of pathways, of beginnings and endings, of duality, of transitions and time and passages. Janus the Side could relate to two of those things: Two-faced and duality. He wasn’t represented by a two-headed snake for no reason. For years and years, Deceit and Janus had been two distinct, separate people. Deceit had put on mask upon mask upon mask, doing everything short of bodily lifting Thomas and hurling him out of every dangerous situation that had ever passed. Janus had sat in his armchair, knitting the chunkiest, fluffiest sweater in existence to give to Virgil on his birthday, conjuring washable markers to let Remus scribble on every surface possible on the anniversary of Creativity’s split, reading bedtime stories to the three other “dark sides” whenever a hurricane brushed up to Florida’s coasts.

Deceit had existed to everyone, in every action that he had done. Janus had existed to exactly three people, in little actions and midnight cups of tea and the biggest, comfiest bed for sleepovers.

Earlier that day, Janus had pulled his soul from his chest and held it out for the world to see, and Roman had spit in his face for it.

It wasn’t often that Janus didn’t know what to do. For instance, right now, Janus knew exactly what to do. Right now, Janus was going to bury his face into his pillows, crawl under the covers, and stay there for the foreseeable future.

And if a few tears escaped from his screwed-up eyes, well. That was nobody’s business.

**Author's Note:**

> *youtuber voice* make sure to like and subscribe!!!!!!!!and don't forgenbt to ring that bellll!!!!!!!!  
> seriously though if you like it, leave a comment! i don't know what makes me go batshit for sanders sides fics, but even though it's not my most active fandom it's the only one that I've written for lmao


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